"Moonlight, too," murmured Lester. "Yes, sir; I knew it the first time we met."

Mr. Burr took the Worcestershire sauce bottle carelessly in his hand. He appeared to debate in his mind whether he would eat Mr. Wood with or without a condiment.

"Young man," he said after a moment, "I don't know much about you at present, but they say you are to be relied upon to keep your word."

"I am glad if I have earned that reputation," answered Lester.

"Yes. Good thing. Now, sir, you would n't expect me to give you an answer before my stomach has decided as to whether it will digest my breakfast or not?" "Why, I suppose an hour from now would do as well."

The primeval cave-dwellers again looked out from beneath Mr. Burr's beetling brows. "Huh!" said that gentleman, spontaneously. "I imagine you will find this afternoon will have to do for us both. In the meantime, Mr. Wood, I wish you to give me your word, as a gentleman, that under no circumstances will you make any effort or proposal to run away with my daughter. Plainly, sir, I dislike that sort of thing exceedingly."

Wood regarded him in silence for a moment, while his senses of warning searched swiftly about for hidden meanings in his elective father's speech. Discovering nothing more ominous than a possible postponement of the nuptials, whereas he had frankly expected a more or less violent opposition, he nodded assentingly.

"I don't like running away myself," he said. "I'll willingly give you my promise that we won't elope. And you'll give your consent this afternoon?"

"Did n't I say I would not decide this morning? I said I would think it over and see you this afternoon."

All right," replied the unabashed young man. "I'll drop in after lunch. But we'd like very much to be married in the little wooden church before they tear it down. The new one won't be ready for a year."

Outside the door he encountered Tillie herself. She hung in his arms for a moment and paid him tribute for having listened.

"Oh, I know he 'll consent," she whispered. "He was n't really cross at all."

Lester inquired: Is he often troubled with indecision of the stomach ?"

"Sometimes," said Tillie.

"Then give him something easy for lunch."

With this suggestion Tillie willingly complied. Nevertheless, her father was crosser than when Lester once more appeared in his presence late that afternoon.

'Well, sir," demanded the old gentleman, what now?"

"The same thing I called about this morning," said Wood.

"I'm a busy man; I don't wish to be bothered," Mr. Burr announced.

"No, sir," Lester agreed. "It will take only a second to say yes."

66

Will it, indeed? I suppose you have got the ring in your pocket already." "I can get one-if you encourage me to do so."

The older man looked at him enigmatically.

"For a young man in your predicament it would be a handy thing to have," he remarked.

The eager Wood missed the sarcasm. "Then you consent? We may be married soon?" he urged.

"Get the ring and have it handy," advised Mr. Burr. "You can be married the first time I see a church rolling down the hill and stopping in front of the house.”

Wood gazed at him blankly. He flushed and then became suddenly pale.

"But, Mr. Burr-I don't think — I understand," he stammered.

"It will dawn on you gradually, therefore easily," said the older man. "You will have plenty of time to think it over. Good day." It was futile for Wood to stutter, to expostulate, to appeal.

"You wanted my consent. You have it," Mr. Burr interrupted. “We are men of our word. So I say again, good day."

Men of our word" indeed! Wood suddenly realized something of the beauty of the trap into which the craftier man had led him. When exacting the promise that there should be no elopement, he had contemplated this bit of parental chicanery so cleverly prepared.

To remain and fight would be to commit the gravest folly; and yet if ever a man felt tricked and baffled, therefore fighting mad, it was Wood.

"Thank you," said he, withdrawing. "Your kindness a little overwhelms me. I can hardly express my gratitude."

Mr. Burr glared at him searchingly, but, satisfied with the pallid countenance he saw, bowed him abruptly out of the room. In the hall a sweet little leaning tower of tears was well-nigh inconsolable.

“Oh, Lester,” she said, “what shall we do? What shall we do?"

"I'll have to crawl inside myself and think," said Lester. "Perhaps I can get him into an accident, and then save his life-drop him out of a balloon first, and give him a parachute just before he hits. Or I might hire a tribe of Apaches to commit a massacre on his person, and intervene at the vital moment. I don't know. I'll do something. I'll never give in. He made me promise that we would n't run away. If only we could make him run away, then we could chase him up together, after first getting married, for the sake of propriety. Tillie, I'm going to do something desperate; you mark my word!" Thereupon he kissed her with manly defiance.

II

It is said to be far more exciting and agreeable for a lady to wait for a husband before she is married than it ever is afterward. Be this as it may, there was little either of excitement or joy for Tillie Burr in the ten days that followed the ultimatum of her father. Lester had so prodded his brain for a means of outwitting his chosen parent that his head fairly ached, even in his dreams. Had all his inventions been patentable as useful appliances, his fortune would have been speedily secured.

Whensoever they met he imparted to Tillie all of his wild ideas. When she shuddered the most, her pride in his ingenuity was the greatest, and her sighs over all the hopelessness of the situation were the deepest.

"I can borrow Van Voorst's automobile," he said on one of these occasions. "It's a forty-horse-power racing car. Do you think your father would go riding with me some fine afternoon?"

"What would you do?" said Tillie, vaguely alarmed.

"Oh, I don't know yet. But an automobile does so many extemporary things that I'm sure that between us we could manage something, on the spur of any moment."

kind-something to touch his heart," suggested Tillie. "I'm sure you can if you try." "If there were any relenting in his system, he would relent for you," said Lester. "They'll have the little church destroyed while I am hunting around to find his heart."

"They have n't begun to tear it down already?" she said.

"No; but they expect to start operations in less than a week. They will hold the very last service there this coming Sunday." "Oh, Lester, get them to leave it—just for a few days more," she begged.

He looked at her oddly. The whole expression of his countenance was altered. Winking his eyes with rapidity and screwing up his mouth in an unaccustomed pucker, he thought for a moment, hard.

"Tillie," he said then, while a sunrise was suddenly manifested in his face, "I've got a scheme. I'll see what I can do about the church. You get your weddingdresses and everything ready at once for a wedding on two minutes' notice, and— leave the rest to me."

"But what are you going to do?" she inquired in eagerness.

'I don't quite know," he told her, lying like a pirate, "but I think I'll try to touch your father's heart. Good-by." And in greater haste than she had seen him develop for weeks, he departed.

Amazed and curious, Tillie expended. the precious moments, as often as they met in the next few days, in fruitless questions concerning her fiancé's intentions.

It was not until the ensuing Monday evening, however, that Lester could impart any, definite instructions. He asked her then what dozen friends she would like to invite to the wedding, and bade her be dressed and ready for the ceremony to be performed in the early afternoon of the following day.

You

"You can expect to become my wife at one o'clock to-morrow," he said, as he held her blushing face between his hands and kissed her fondly. "One o'clock, unless something should break. But I 've got a lot to do, and I've got to see the man for a second." Wherefore he went.

The following day was created of garlands of sunshine. With her heart tripping in trepidation and love's uncertainty, Tillie prepared herself to be married in a traveling-costume purchased the previous week. She had summoned three of her girl companions to her aid, in consequence of which there were four excited bosoms beneath the roof of Burr as the fateful hour of one approached.

"Look out-and see-if any one is coming," Tillie gasped from time to time. But the road that sloped down from the village was undisturbed, and all was peace in the meadows.

One o'clock passed. The four girls, who waited for some manner of stratagem to develop, were filled with nervous dread.

It was fully half an hour later when, after harrowing tortures of expectancy, Tillie heard the hired man go noisily into the house and summon her father from his study.

To the utter amazement of Mr. Burr, the edifice halted in front of his garden. A smartly dressed young man emerged from the door.

"Mr. Burr, I believe," he said. "A note for you, with compliments."

A sudden suspicion flashed through the mind of the man with a marriageable daughter. He took the note, which read:

DEAR SIR: You are a man of your word. Tillie is ready. I am waiting at the altar with the ring, which I have kept handy. Your affectionate son,

Lester Wood.

If Parent Burr's heart still remained untouched, his sense of humor capitulated promptly. He grinned. When he turned about, four anxious girlish faces confronted his gaze.

"Well, Tillie, come on," he said. "I guess there's something in him, after all."

All smiles and tears together, Tillie ran to find a place about his neck. She kissed him warmly. Then she presently took his arm, and they walked to the visiting church, the door of which had been prepared with steps and a carpet.

One of the bridesmaids went at once to the open window.

"Why-why-why, something! Oh, look!" she cried. "The church! The church is coming!"

"Holy smoke!" cried the voice of the gardener, down on the lawn below with Mr. Burr, "the bloomin' church is rollin' down the bloomin' hill!"

The sight was unmistakable. The little toy chapel, indeed, was jacked up on trucks, and, in tow of a coughing and heavily "ballasted" automobile, had rounded the turn of the road and was almost come to the Burr abode.

Its tiny steeple swayed aloft like a mast. It creaked as the automobile tugged it down the slope. Its bell had been tied, but now it was suddenly loosened, and swinging about in a mad sort of glee, it voiced a joy most inconsequent, if not indecorous.

complete. There was even an organ, the glad strains of which, combined with the twinkling gleams in eyes all about, gave greeting to the pretty little procession now appearing. The smiling Mr. Burr led his dainty flock of girls toward the altar, where Lester Wood, in manly earnestness, stood awaiting his bride.

Then at last, when the sweet old ceremony had been made human by the tears, kisses, and congratulations which duly held their sway, Mr. Burr "surrounded" his son-in-law and regarded him earnestly. He was looking for evidences of genius in the young man's countenance.

"Well, sir," he said at length, " and what will you do with this church, now that you have rolled it down the hill in front of my door?"

"I'll roll it over on the farther side," said the genius. "The people of Smallville wanted a church, so I have sold them this one at a profit."

THE "WALK-IN-AND-TALK-IT

OVER" PLAN

WITH SPECIAL REFERENCE TO THE SOUTHERN

EDUCATION CONFERENCES

SHOEMAKER in a little New Eng

A a sign on the

of his shop bearing the following inviting language: "WALK IN AND TALK IT OVER." It is an announcement that has more of timeliness and general application than may have originally occurred to the displayer of the sign. The "get-together" and talk-it-over" method is having a remarkable vogue nowadays. It was conspicuously present in the World's Congress of Religions at the Chicago Columbian Exposition. It is used by those interested in social progress. It is at the basis of the various schemes for conciliation between capital and labor. It is the backbone of the international arbitration movement, Mr. Carnegie's proposed Palace of Peace at The Hague being merely a commodious and agreeable place where the nations of the world may "walk in and talk it over" in the most convenient and dignified manner-in this case a highly civilized and truly Christian substitute for the old-fashioned, romantic, corpse-decorated battlefield, where the nations, instead, walked in and fought it over.

The "talk-it-over," in place of the "fight-it-over," method, implies a higher state not merely of manners and morals, but also of human intelligence, as illustrated by the story told the other day in the South of a colored servant who, referring to the Civil War, remarked that, as the white folks had n't intelligence enough to settle the question peaceably, they had to go and fight it out.

The Peace Convention just before that war was an unsuccessful attempt to talk it over, without fighting; and one great and highly entertaining and pacifying "talk-itover" after the war may be said to have been conducted in the pages of THE CENTURY MAGAZINE, where the leading survivors of the battles, on both sides, were

invited to give their own accounts of the various engagements and campaigns.

One of the most interesting modern examples of the talking-over method is the series of annual Conferences on Education in the South, with which the name of Mr. Robert C. Ogden is prominent. The sixth was held recently in Richmond, the capital of Virginia and the former capital of the Southern Confederacy. The valuable and instructive "talking over" on this occasion, between representatives of various parts of the North and of the South, was not only upon the public platform, but in social intercourse.

There is no intention of making these conferences a forum for general debate on the negro question in all its bearings. The common ground is an interest in the education of the masses of the people, white and black, the desire being to seek out the best methods, with a strong leaning in favor of industrial training, and to keep alive and to extend public interest. This latest conference and "talk-over" certainly marked an advance in two directions: first, in the still wider acceptance by leading statesmen and officials, educators, writers, and leaders of the better opinion of the Southern States, of the necessity, not of killing, deporting, or crushing the negro, but of lending him a helping hand in his earnest attempts at self-betterment; second, the conference illustrated the increasing confidence of Northern opinion in the great Southern movement in this direction.

It seems that, as has been remarked, time has brought a new nomenclature regarding governors. The talk concerning war governors is replaced by the talk concerning education governors. Virginia has her education governor in Governor Montague, who in his opening address declared, without qualification, that education is the "supreme task of statesmanship and the supreme need of the people." Perhaps the most important address at this special conference was that of one of the most conservative educators of the South, Chancellor Walter B. Hill of the University of

Georgia. Chancellor Hill's were golden words indeed, and should be read everywhere in the North and in the South as the mature conviction and earnest proclamation of one who looks upon the question of Southern education not merely with the responsibility of an expert, but in the broad light of statesmanship. Such an utterance, along with similar statements by other distinguished Southern college presidents and molders of opinion, justifies the present hopeful attitude of patriotic men and women, North and South, in relation to this tremendous problem. Said Chancellor Hill, in part:

In the days when the Southern section of our country was threatened with force bills and similar legislation there were utterances in the South, which might be gathered up from press, pulpit, and platform of that time literally by the millions, in which it was said that if the North would only let the South alone, the South would solve the problem in wisdom and in justice. These utterances were sincere, and their fulfilment involves not only a plain duty, but involves also the strong point of the South, the point of honor. The change in the attitude of the North cannot fairly be regarded as a desertion of the negro; but, as Mr. Cleveland aptly said, it is an "expression of faith and confidence in the respectable white people of the South."

There are some to be found who say, or at least imply, that it would be dangerous for the South to do full justice to the negro in the matter of education. They affect to fear that the result of such a policy would be to bring the negro into dangerous competition with the white race. There is no surer way to dishonor the blood in white veins than to entertain the apprehension that the negro can so overcome racial characteristics and the advantage of a start of at least two thousand years as to endanger the supremacy of the white race. In expressing confidence in this future supremacy nothing more is involved than the claim of supremacy for intelligence. So far from being true that the South cannot afford full justice to the negro, I would say that the only thing which the South cannot afford in its relation to the negro race is injustice. All history teaches that injustice injures and deteriorates the individual or nation that practises it, while, on the other hand, it develops and strengthens the man or race upon which it is inflicted. .

The South has voluntarily done much for the education of the negro, and will take no backward step in this direction. For

every dollar contributed by the wealth-endowed philanthropy of the North for this

purpose the South, out of her poverty, has contributed four dollars. It cannot be pretended that all the people of the South are satisfied with this policy. It must frankly be admitted that some of them are restive under it, but it can at least be asserted that the leaders of thought are the friends of negro education.

When it is remembered that the deliberate language at Richmond of the chancellor of the University of Georgia was far from running counter to the spirit of a conference in which Southern men and women predominated, but was instead a clear and downright formulation of that spirit, the reasons for encouragement are evident. The South is no more exempt than the North from those who use wild

and whirling words; it is not, nor is the North, a paradise from which narrow and evil-working politicians are absent. Not every recent enactment, not every political procedure in the Southern States, may be inwrought with that sense of justice which Chancellor Hill extols; but there is great encouragement in a knowledge of the fact that the best sentiment and highest ability of the South is at work as never before to bring about better conditions in the life of the whole people.